


Terror Drabbles

by hungry_hobbits



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Most everyone lives at least depending on the prompt, No Victorian Era Homphobia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-06-22 00:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15569787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungry_hobbits/pseuds/hungry_hobbits
Summary: Updated with Chapt. 8“You will be careful? And not wander off?”“You sound very much like a mother right now, James.”A collection of drabbles from filled prompts.





	1. Fitzjames/Goodsir - "Was that stupid dare worth it?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for HenryLeVesconte - "Was that stupid dare worth it?"

“Was that stupid dare worth it?” Harry spoke over the seething hisses of his captain, though in private he was allowed to refer to him simply as James. He dabbed a cloth soaked in alcohol against a bleeding cut on the man’s forehead. It was a small enough gash that it would not need stitches, but deep enough to where Harry might need to make a plaster for it. “Well? Was it?”

“In hindsight… perhaps I should have been more cautious of how slippery the rocks by the water would be.” James admitted this with a wincing smile. Always smiling in the face of pain. Broken limbs, musket ball wounds, falling face first onto a jagged rock? All taken in stride by Captain James Fitzjames. “I hope you will be giving Lieutenant Le Vesconte as much of a scolding as you are giving me! Twas his idea, you know.”

“Oh, I know! Believe me, I know. But, if you recall I was saying that I did not think it was a good idea! But did you listen?” Harry pressed the cloth firmly to the cut. He wanted to make sure the wound was clean but he did not mind giving James an extra bit of sting.

“Ooh ouch! Easy with that!”

“You need to be more careful, James.” Harry’s tone was not one of scolding, but of concern, “What if something more serious had happened?” He turned and set the bloodied rag into a metal basin for cleaning later.

“Then I should hope,” James put a hand on Harry’s arm and pulled the man to face him, “that my good doctor will be there to put me back together should I fall apart due to my eccentric recklessness.”

“Hmph. Well if I am not there then you’ll have to have Doctor Stanley help you.”

“You would not be so cruel. You could not, I know it. You have not a mean bone in your body, Harry.” James smirked and stuck out his chin, presenting his head to the doctor. “And since you are not that sort of cruel man, perhaps you could give my injury a kiss to speed the healing?”

“You are absolutely incorrigible.” Harry did not deny him the ‘healing kiss’ and pressed one gently to the side of the wound so as to not irritate it further. “Is that better, Captain Fitzjames?”

“Better than a dosage of laudanum. I’m already starting to feel right again, Doctor Goodsir. Thank you ever so much.”

“Please be more careful from now on. Doctor’s orders.”

“I’ll do my best not to worry you, but I can make no promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hungry-hobbits.tumblr.com


	2. Bridgens/Peglar - "Sit down. I'll make some hot chocolate and fix you right up."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for HenryLeVesconte - "Sit down. I'll make some hot chocolate and fix you right up."
> 
> (They're married here, post Expedition. Just to clear anything up XD)

Henry had always been so sure-footed. One needed to be on a ship, where high winds and salt spray and ice could send a man toppling onto their ass, or worse — over the side of a ship into the water below. He always climbed the ropes and the masts quicker than any man in his crew, as if he were a little jungle monkey swinging from vine to vine.

He always felt at home up high, with the wind whistling through his ears and the birds overhead.

Things were different now. He was different now.

When John heard the crash his heart immediately sank into a deep pit of fear.  _Oh God what has happened?_  He nearly threw his cleaning aside, willing to risk a mess to tend to later if it meant getting out to the garden faster.

There in a now crushed flower bush sat his husband, sprawled out amongst the leaves and petals. He was more embarrassed than hurt, at least from first glance anyway. Had he not just taken a fall from the roof it would have been quite the comical sight, but John never was able to stomach Henry being up high even if that was his favored altitude.

“Henry are you alright?” John quickly came to the bush, offering his hands to help pull Henry from the foliage, “What in God’s name happened?”

“Lost my footin’ on the roof.” He stood and rubbed his lower back. There were leaves and twigs sticking out from his sweater and hair, which John began to pluck out one by one and cast them aside with the spilled roof shingles from a haphazardly flung basket. “Didn’t realize it hadn’t dried all the way through from the rain yesterday…caught a slippery one and slid down arse first.”

Regardless of whether or not Henry had been hurt in the fall (thankfully he wasn’t), John still felt guilty for it was he who sent him up in the first place. He wanted the roof patched before the next rain as it had been leaking. John slid an arm around his husband to support him as they walked back towards the door that lead inside.

“You don’t have to help me walk. I’m a bit sore, but I’m not hurt.” Henry still held an embarrassed look on his face, “Never fallen before. I’ve always been so good on my feet up high.”

“Your body isn’t what it used to be. We all have our limits. Now sit down. I’ll make some hot cocoa and fix you up.” John sat him in a chair and got to work. “I’m sorry I sent you up there.”

“Needed to be done. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Are you certain you’re not hurt?”

“If I have any bruises I’m sure you can take care of them. Like you’ve always done.”

“How about we stay off the roof for a while? At least until we’re certain it’s dry. I don’t know if my heart can take you falling again right away.” John passed him a mug and pulled up a chair beside him. He seemed to be looking him over intently, scanning for any missed debris or scratches.

Henry took a long sip of his drink before replying, “I like the heights. But I like being with you better. So I’ll stay to the ground for a bit. For you.”

“I greatly appreciate that, Henry. Truly I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hungry-hobbits.tumblr.com


	3. Hickey/Tozer - "Lean on me."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for SunflowerSpritzer - "Lean on me."

He refused to leave the remnants of Carnivale behind, even though he was exhausted and the smoke from the still burning embers was hurting his lungs. He was looking for someone amongst the charred, trampled corpses. Someone he wanted to personally give final rites to, in a proper Marine fashion.

Tozer watched with bleary, sun-blinded eyes as Erebus’ captain helped line up the corpses. His own hands were blackened with soot, fingers burned from moving burnt wood and rigid corpses. He could do no more for the time being except watch and stare at the bodies in the hopes that he recognized the one he searched for.

“Sergeant.” The voice snapped him out of his stare. “You should get some rest.”

It was the caulker’s mate, Cornelius Hickey. Somehow he had approached silently over the ice, or maybe he went unnoticed from how deep into his thoughts Tozer was. He held something between his fingers, a cigarette — a paltry offering. It was already lit, like it was waiting for him.

“What’s that?”

“For your nerves.” Hickey rested against the same ice formation Tozer found himself against, “Thought you could use it.”

“Think I’ve had enough smoke for a while, Mister Hickey.”

“Fair enough.” The smaller man shrugged and put the cigarette to his lips. He was forced to talk around it as he smoked, “You been out here all night?”

Tozer nodded.

“You should get some rest.”

“I’m fine where I am.”

“Are you?”

Tozer did not reply. He watched with a half turned head as Hickey blew his smoke into the air to mingle what was already polluting the sky.

“Why don’t you lean on me for a bit. Keep you warm.” Hickey smiled that sweet smile he always gave Tozer. An innocent smile on a face that could hide so much deviance. “If you’re gonna stay out here while Captain Fitzjames does his work, it’ll do you some good to warm up, even a little.”

Hickey removed himself from the wall, dusting snow off his jacket before finding a discarded crate to perch himself on. There was plenty of room for company, especially considering that the caulker’s mate did not take up much space with his small size.

After a moment of watching him smoke, Tozer followed. He sat beside Hickey, closer than before with their shoulders now touching. The contact was nice however meager and the sergeant felt himself willingly lean on Hickey as he had been offered.

“Should you doze off,” Hickey spoke quietly, “I’ll wake you if they find him.”

He was surprised Hickey knew who he was looking for, but appreciative nonetheless. Tozer nodded, more tired than he remembered being. “Let me know if I get too heavy for you.” Tozer briefly found himself worrying about being reprimanded for slacking, but doubted either captain having the strength or morals to really scold anyone at the time.

“Right. Will do.”

“Hickey?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you…”

It was Hickey’s turn to fall silent. Tozer had quickly gone quiet as well, either from thought or from rest. At some point Hickey snaked an arm around the marine. He’d say it was to better support him, but really he knew deep down that Tozer would appreciate a bit more comfort during this time. They all would, but he only had so much to give and was willing to give it to very few.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hungry-hobbits.tumblr.com


	4. Hickey/Irving - "Get in the car. You're going to the hospital."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for SunflowerSpritzer - "Get in the car. You're going to the hospital."
> 
> (A modern AU prompt fill ;3c)

“It’s just a scratch, John!” Hickey called out from the kitchen. He was sat on a chair holding a rag to the palm of his hand. It was far from a scratch. Blood on the counter, blood in the sink, blood on Hickey’s ratty old t-shirt he tried to use to stop the blood from getting on the kitchen floor that Irving had mopped  _just yesterday_  (it didn’t work and there was blood there, too).

Irving did not listen, of course, as he was too set on finding their first-aid kit somewhere in the bathroom of their flat. He had just reorganized everything, too! He took a moment to calm himself before finally locating it, realizing that his fearful energies were going to keep him from being properly productive in this situation.

“That,” Irving said as he set the first-aid kit down on the kitchen table with a bit more force than necessary, “is not a  _scratch_ , Cornelius. That is a  _gash_! A  _wound_! It needs stitches!!” His emphasized words were punctuated with the fear he currently held. “Hold out your hand.”

“I think some gauze wrap will suffice.” Hickey reluctantly held out his bloodied palm. The bleeding had stopped but this allowed a better examination of his injury which was signifcantly worse than Hickey had originally thought it was.  _Eugh, perhaps John is right.._. He swayed in his chair a bit, craning his neck so he could look at the ceiling, seemingly the only place in his vicinity that did not have blood on it. “John could you hurry up? Feelin’ a bit woozy here.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised considering how much blood you’ve lost!” Irving did not necessarily want to scold Hickey in this moment, his voice just seemed to take on more of an angry tone when he was panicked. The gauze was wrapped tight, but not too tight, and taped down so hopefully no blood would leak out.

“Get in the car. You’re going to the hospital.” Irving went to grab them a coat each but was stopped by the whines of his partner. “Cornelius?”

“I need some help. The blood. I don’t… you know I don’t like seeing it.” Hickey’s eyes were closed as he motioned slowly around him with his bandaged hand. It hadn’t really hit him until it hit him all at once. Probably the shock of being injured while doing a menial task kept him from  _really_  seeing all the nasty red everywhere.

“Oh no! Cornelius I’m so sorry I forgot! Come here I’ve got you.” Irving rushed back to take Hickey’s arm and guide his partner from the sullied kitchen. “Alright we’re by the door. Wait here, I’ll get my keys. Should I get your wallet as well? Probably. And the jackets. And–”

“John.”

“Y-Yes??”

“ _Breathe_. ’m not dying. Just a few stitches, yeah? Like you said.” When Hickey’s eyes opened, Irving found himself relaxed by the striking blue color he had come to adore. “Jackets are on the hook, wallets on my side of the bed, keys are in the dish.” Hickey smiled his usual sweet smile despite his queasiness, and held his poor, injured hand close to his front.

“Right. Thank you. We’ll get you fixed up in a jiffy.”

“No doubt about it. But ah, one more thing?”

“Cornelius, I don’t think we have time–”

“Can you handle cleaning the kitchen for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hungry-hobbits.tumblr.com


	5. Maczier - "What's Cookin', Good Lookin'?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for HenryLeVesconte - "“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

The flat was warm, as it often was in the morning when breakfast was being made and tea was being brewed. A fire going in the stove always made it harder for Francis to force himself out of bed. Thirty some odd years in the Navy, nearly a lifetime governed by rigorous routine and protocol, and Francis Crozier still could not bring himself to be a morning person.

It felt odd, even in retirement, to swing his legs over the side of the bed and not have his feet plant down on the wooden floor of a ship; to not be woken by the sound of men starting their daily duties, their bumping, shuffling, and hollering mixing with the sounds of the sea outside his cabin. It was a sound he had grown accustomed to, and mornings always felt a bit empty without it.

Though, his mornings had become filled with a different sound. A better sound.

 

He could hear it from the hall as he made his way to their little kitchen. The sound of his husband humming as he prepared them breakfast. To Francis, it was one of the greatest sounds in the world; a sound better than any sea bird in a desolate arctic expanse.

Even though they were getting older, Alexander’s hair was still the same golden, messy blond it always had been. Francis stopped in the doorway, watching as flour coated hands made an effort to push those ever-present and always stubborn strands of hair from his forehead (to no avail). His own had started to go more grey than red but the good doctor assured him at every inkling of self-doubt that Francis stumbled across, that he was still the most handsome man in the world to him.

Alexander seemed to not have noticed that he was being watched, or if he did he certainly did not let onto this fact. He tutted around the kitchen, moving from counter to stove and back. He was a very clean doctor, but a messy cook.

 

A wry smirk spread across Francis’ face as he quietly made his way to Alexander’s side of the kitchen. He placed his sea worn hands on the man’s hip and planted a kiss just behind his ear. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” He spoke with a purr that made his husband laugh.

“Pancakes. I even got up early to get some of that jam you like for it.”

“Don’t I feel lucky? And here I was, tempted to sleep the morning away.” Francis nuzzled his unshaven cheek against the smooth cheek of his husband. “Would you have brought me breakfast in bed?”

Alexander playfully shrugged Francis away, mostly so that he could move the batter to the pan. “Hm, that would have been quite the romantic idea.” He turned to wink at his husband before flipping the half cooked pancake with ease, “I might have even fed it to you.”

“Now _that_ would have been romantic. I’m starting to really regret leaving the covers.”

“I said _might have_ , Francis.” The doctor smirked, “And when would you plan on returning the favor to me? I haven’t seen you making any progress with your cooking lessons.”

“I’m working on it. It takes time. Things like charting courses and reading maps are simple compared to cooking.” He reached towards the bowl of batter in an attempt to have a taste of the sweet batter, but was met with a wooden spoon to the knuckles. “ _Christ!_ ”

“No! You will keep your fingers to yourself like a civilized man. No fingers in my batter.”

“Just one wee taste won’t hurt, Alex.” Francis put his wounded knuckles to his mouth in the hopes it would ease the sting just a bit.

“It’ll hurt just as much as that spoon to your hand and then some!”

“You’re crueler than an arctic winter.”

“And yet,” Alexander paused to slide the finished pancake onto a plate that was stacked with a few finished ones, “you gladly married me.”

“You’re damn right I did. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Francis wrapped an arm around Alexander’s waist, leaning in for a sweet kiss on the cheek. His free hand slipped out of his husband’s sight, sneaking towards the bowl like a snake to an unguarded clutch of eggs.

 

Unfortunately for Francis, Alexander had better reflexes and quickly yanked the bowl from his grasp. “Out!” He yelled, “Out of my kitchen! You despicable man.”

Francis cackled and ducked to barely avoid being thwacked once again by the doctor’s wooden spoon.

“Try that again and you’ll go the rest of the morning hungry!” Of course his threat was all bark, no bite. Alexander could not keep the grin from spreading across his face, “You want breakfast, you’ll sit at the table and wait like a properly raised man.”

“Fine, I’ll behave. Or at least I’ll try to.”

“Thank the heavens, you’ve come to your senses.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hungry-hobbits.tumblr.com


	6. Hickey/Tozer - "I never want to leave here."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for StripeyLittleFishy - "I never want to leave here."

For the first time in a long time, Solomon felt relaxed. There were no watches to take part in, no beasts to watch out for, no bitter cold or hunger pangs. He was far away from the place that caused him great pain and misery. He was safe, he was warm, and, most importantly, he was not alone.

His toes dug into sand as he stretched. The sun had moved, and so had his shade, causing him to be directly in the heat. It was time to leave the beach upon which he napped lest he become redder than the crab they caught for part of the night’s supper. But he did not budge, and more than likely would not, at least not without some coaxing.

“Solomon,” the voice cooed from somewhere behind him, “let’s get inside, eh? Don’t wanna get burned _again_.” Two thin hands placed themselves on the sides of Solomon’s face. The hands belonged to Cornelius- his Cornelius, and they were hands that were soft and intact and without blemish from their shared ordeal. Solomon could not say the same about his own body, but if Cornelius minded he never said. His thumb grazed over a patch of wind burned skin that never healed right on Solomon’s face.

“You hear me?”

“I heard you. It’s just…” Solomon opened his eyes and was met with Cornelius looming over him, the man’s red hair dangling and in the way, “I never want to leave here.” He reached up, his hand covering the hand of his lover’s and smiled, “I love it here. I love it here with you.”

“Well, I’ve got no plans to leave this place anytime soon.” Cornelius let Solomon have his tender moment before standing up straight and turning on his heel in the sand, “But _I am_ going inside. And I hope you’ll come with me.” He started to walk, glancing over his shoulder for only a moment to see what Solomon would do.

The former marine sat up from his place in the sand. He watched the waves and looked up at the sky and let out a sigh. He did not want to be left behind, but he was slow to follow. He knew Cornelius would wait for him. He always had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hungry-hobbits.tumblr.com


	7. Bridgens/Peglar - "You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for AskNightvaleandGravityFalls/VictorianLesbianBoats - "You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen."

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“John! Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not teasing you.”

“ _Women_ are beautiful. _Places_ are beautiful. _I’m_ not beautiful.”

John shook his head. He took Henry’s work worn hand into both of his and squeezed gently. “Those things are beautiful, but so are you. And I do not mean merely in appearance.” He smiled, warmly and softly. John’s smile always made Henry feel a certain way, gave him a tender feeling. It was such a genuine thing.

“Well then,” Henry tilted his head to the side just a bit, “what _do_ you mean?”

 

“You are like a book, the cover does not always convey the contents.” John brought his lover’s hand to his cheek to nuzzle it as he spoke, his facial hair tickling Henry’s knuckles. “But the inside can hold such untold beauty. You are a man with a heart and soul, these things are beautiful, Henry.” He moved the younger man’s hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “The way you view the world, observe its creatures, tackle its challenges; those things are _beautiful_.”

The steward took a moment to look into Henry’s eyes, lips barely pressed against the flesh of his hand. “The way you climb the masts, your agility and grace. The way birds seem drawn to you, as though you were one with nature.” He watched as Henry’s expression softened and a thoughtfulness filled the parts of his face where confusion was once held, “The way you try so very hard with your lessons. Your messy hand writing, your stuttered words, that look you get when Latin leaves you utterly vexed but Greek comes to you so easily.” John’s eyes seemed to almost sparkle as he spoke, listing off the things that made Henry so wonderful to him. They came with a great ease, the words flowing so freely from his lips.

“The depth of your being, the man that you are. More beautiful than any gold bound tome or flowering field. You are beautiful to me, Henry.”

 

Henry seemed to chew on the inside of his cheek in thought, ruminating on John’s kind words. He wondered if John was even capable of cruelty, though, it seemed utterly impossible. “You always see in me things but in ways I never really thought about…” He put his hand to John’s cheek, “That’s really beautiful, too, John.” He smiled and as he did a soft, pink hue colored his cheeks. He could pride himself on being tough, as a man of his position needed to be, but with John he could put that aside and allow himself a softness and tenderness especially towards the man he loved, “You always see the good in me. In everyone and everything. You’re kind and you’re patient and you’re ever so caring.”

Henry stroked the steward’s cheekbones and let his fingers bury in his sideburns. His face was so warm, he was always so warm whenever Henry touched him, no matter where they were or where his hands were put. “If I’m beautiful, then so are you. With your greying hair and your soft hands and the way you whisper poems to me in the night.” He smiled and used his hand to carefully guide their faces together, their foreheads touching gently.

“We are beautiful in our own ways. Individual books with different covers and beautiful stories waiting to be told.” John continued to hold Henry’s hand, giving it a tender squeeze. “And there is nothing in this world more beautiful to me than you, Henry.”

Henry made the move to press his lips to his lover’s. The warmth he felt elicited a happy hum from him as he shut his eyes. It was always a wonderful thing, every time no matter how short felt as special as the last. It was John that made him feel this way, so loved and special. No other man or woman could ever come close. John reciprocated, moving their bodies more snugly together so that the space between them was barely there at all. His eyes closed so that he may be lost in the moment, to focus on them being together. A much needed touch. A fleeting, but nevertheless beautiful moment between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hungry-hobbits.tumblr.com


	8. Fitzjames/Goodsir - a lingering kiss before a long trip apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for StripeyLittleFishy - "a lingering kiss before a long trip apart"

There was anxiety and excitement within Fitzjames at the thought of what the ice might hold. Crozier had recommended parties be sent out in search of leads, hoping that there would be some direction they could look forward to that would get them back to their journey. It would be days before he saw Goodsir again, days of having no idea what might happen to him out there, what sights he might behold. He had come to care for the doctor more than might have been deemed proper but it is difficult to set aside the feelings of one’s heart, especially when they are so quickly reciprocated.

“You will be careful? And not wander off?”

“You sound very much like a mother right now, James.” Goodsir looked up from his packing. He was to leave the ship with Gore and his overland party in a few hours and as the time for departure drew closer, he could not ignore the nagging feeling that something was not entirely right. Was it James’ worry rubbing off on him? Or something else very genuine?

“I cannot hide that I am finding myself becoming more and more hesitant about allowing you to go.” Fitzjames watched from his place on Goodsir’s bed as the man went through a chest for whatever he had forgotten to pack. “I just want you to understand that I want – no I _need_ you to return safely, in one piece.”

“I feel confident that Lieutenant Gore will return me wholly intact and back into your arms.”

Goodsir could see that his words did not much to ebb the worry lines from Fitzjames’ face. He set his books down and put a hand to the commander’s cheek, “Shall I promise you?”

“If only you are certain you can keep it.” Fitzjames met the naturalist’s eyes and held him in a serious gaze. “I do not enjoy the thought of you breaking a promise.”

“Then I shall not break it.”

With Goodsir’s words, Fitzjames brought him into a tender kiss in place of a handshake. It was slow and gentle, allowing them to linger in the moment as though it would be years and not mere days before they would be reunited again. The commander did not care if this act might have edged on the dramatic, it was important for him to show his love this one last private display of affection before they were separated by miles of ice and snow.

When Fitzjames pulled away, he smiled and pressed his cheek against Goodsir’s muttonchops, “You best keep your promise, doctor.”

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hungry-hobbits.tumblr.com


End file.
